Staunton firefighters battle a Feb. 10, 1962, blaze that destroyed the May building on the southeast corner of Lewis and Beverley streets. The fireman on top of the ladder, spraying water down onto the burning building, is Robert Rohr. The 1937 ladder truck pictured here was sold in 1978 for $1,101 to a museum in Arizona.(Photo: Courtesy of Charles Culbertson)

A landmark downtown building met its demise in spectacular fashion on Feb. 10, 1962, thanks to a stove fire that raged out of control.

The three-story, red-brick May building – so-called because it was owned by Judge J.H. May – stood at the southeast corner of Lewis and Beverley streets and was home to four businesses: the Dixie Hotel, Vames Candy Land, Piedmont Finance Co. and Boston Electric Shoe Hospital.

Over the years, it had hosted a number of enterprises, including a bicycle sales and repair shop, a cylinder-phonograph store, a Chinese laundry and a bakery.

The fire got started at about 10:30 a.m. on Feb. 10, a Saturday. Rosa M. Reubush, a cook at the Dixie Hotel for 30 years, later reported that hotel employee Charles Greaver had just cleaned the stove in the lobby and was building a fire when flames suddenly shot out of the stove and ignited the walls and ceiling.

As the blaze quickly spread to other parts of the building, Staunton police officer D.L. Bocock – who was walking his beat that morning – summoned firemen to the scene. Bocock then rushed into the burning rooming house and began helping occupants to escape. All occupants were safely moved out of the structure before the flames raged through it.

The building's dry, 19th century timbers and building materials ignited so rapidly that, by the time the Staunton Fire Department arrived on the scene, containment was the best that could be hoped for. At times smoke was so dense that firefighters, unable to actually see the building, could only direct streams of water in its general direction.

The city's ladder truck was pressed into service, with fireman Robert Rohr directing a stream of water onto the top of the May building from 60 feet in the air.

The dense, acrid smoke was so heavy and so low that pedestrians attempting to move along Lewis Street had to turn back. The smoke, wrote a reporter, "shifted and lifted" under the force of a fairly stiff wind at times.

Freezing weather hampered firefighting efforts. With the temperature standing at 30 degrees, water froze on the streets, trees and power lines, and one large, fabric-covered hose burst between the hydrant and a pumper, spewing water everywhere. To make matters worse, it was a Saturday morning, and every available parking space was occupied, forcing firefighters to work around a score of vehicles.

Firemen on the scene included an estimated 50 men from the Staunton department, 18 from Augusta County, five from an independent group from Waynesboro and 15 from Churchville. Waynesboro's regular department showed up with a truck and remained at the firehouse in case additional help might be needed.

It took 2 1/2 hours of steady work before firemen were able to enter the May building. The area was roped off in the afternoon and traffic was routed away from the scene. There was, one reporter of the day noted, a real danger that the gutted building would collapse.

"A new creek was opened in Staunton yesterday," noted a Leader reporter. "Water poured from the second and third floors of the May building and found an outlet down the main stairway, and onto the Beverley Street sidewalk. It seemed that, at times, the flow was from four to six inches deep."

The damage was extensive. The hotel, which was owned by Pearl Rohr, was completely destroyed. Vames Candy land reported $12,000 in losses while the Boston Electric Shoe Hospital placed damages as high as $50,000. Fire and water damage also visited the adjacent Cline Furniture Co., which had escaped destruction only because firemen continually hosed it down.

Late in the afternoon, an unidentified city woman stood looking at the charred ruins of the May building.

"Well," she said. referring to the destroyed Vames restaurant, "there won't be no more wieners served there any more."